Fates rewritten
by silmirof4077
Summary: Tristan survived ths battle of Badon Hill and is proveing to be a terrible patient in trying times. It gets funnier.
1. Out of the fire

**Okey dokey, the first chapter isn't terribly funny, but the next one is I promise. Come hit the little review button.**

Battle raged around them yet Arthur stood suspended in time. Through his line of vision he could see Tristan crawling away desperately, pulling his battered body along the ground while the Saxon watched. The sight of Tristan, usually so independent, lying there helpless, was too much for Arthur to accept. He fought strongly to get to him but to no avail.

00oo00oo00oo

The Saxon held Tristan up by his hair and stared unpityingly into the knight's eyes as he gasped for breath; threw him roughly and at the same time slashed him across the chest with his sword. The blow spun Tristan and he fell heavily to the ground .His vision went black, but he could still hear voices around him and feel a burning pain in his chest. Soon this too fell into blackness.

00oo00ooo00oo00oo

Arthur saw Tristan fall and knew the worst, still he fought, finally coming eye to eye with the Saxon. Battle went on and the swords clashed many times before the Saxon fell to the ground, his eyes blank. Unconcerned with him, Arthur came swiftly to Tristan's side. His friend was covered in blood and had been hit many times, yet he was still alive. Arthur gently pulled an arrow from his arm. Tristan groaned. Arthur lent carefully over the scouts motionless form, then shook his shoulder gently

"Awake Tristan,"

His eyes opened wearily, Tristan gasped again still fighting for enough air to live

" Arthur," he whispered, but before he could finish his sentence he had fallen to the ground, eyes shut against the flow of blood. There was a deep wound in his side, Arthur held a cloak to it, trying to at least stabilise Tristan's breathing.

Tristan opened his eyes again staring suspiciously at his commander. "Tristan are you alright?" Arthur's tone was worried and tense and judging by the glare his knight gave him he was far from all right.

"Tristan…" the archer's eyes flicked his eyes up to Arthur's face worriedly and fearfully. Arthur was unnerved, he had never before seen Tristan show fear "Tristan you will be fine, I'm going to move you. Tell me if it gets worse." Tristan nodded again and inwardly braced himself as his commander gently lifted him from the ground. A soft moan escaped his lips, but nothing more. After a few tentative steps Tristan could see Gawain's anxious face

"Arthur. Gods, what happened to him?"

Arthur shook his head and Gawain dropped back, slinging Galahad's arm over his shoulder and helping him limp after Arthur. Tristan could see his troubled expression though the messy braids that hung around his face and somewhere on the way to the castle he blacked out.


	2. And into the healing wards

Tristan awoke in a darkened room. A few candles were lit and in their light he could see Galahad watching him intently. He did not take well to being watched and tended to. Tristan fixed Galahad with a glare. Galahad, still unquenchably cheerful, was not put off by his patient's cold look, but seemed more concerned for Tristan's well-being then his own survival judging by the risk he took by trying to aid him. Thankfully, as this danger had been foreseen the scout had been relived of his the knives hidden in his armour.

"Tristan, can you hear me?" Galahad asked worriedly. Tristan nodded slowly, still not liking the idea that he had been brought to the healing wards.

"Tristan, try not to move."

There was a tone of worry in Galahad's voice. Ignoring it, Tristan made to get up, but found a strong pair of hands forcing him down. Gawain was also standing watch over him. "Tristan do you really think I would leave poor Galahad to watch over you when you were liable to wake up." Gawain teased gently. Tristan struggled wildly no longer aware of his surroundings only a burning pain in his arm and chest.

"Let me go!" he gasped desperately, then cried out and fell back. Gawain quickly took the pressure off his shoulder hoping he had not worsened his injuries.

"Tristan are you alright?" Gawain could not hide the tremor in his voice. Tristan nodded weakly, the bruises showed up clearly against his pale face

"I'm a so sorry Tristan I did not mean to hurt you."

Tristan shook his head having not yet caught his breath sufficiently to talk.

Galahad stepped forward, his face white "Tristan, I swear if I ever find who did his to you…" he clenched his fist, shaking slightly "I though you didn't kill for fun." Tristan said softly still regaining his breath. Galahad looked away, sharply regretting his harsh words to Tristan now that he was so near death himself. He nodded to Gawain and left the room..

Gawain took his place he laid a hand on Tristan's shoulder, who froze and glared at Gawain. "Tristan please lie still," he lent back still watching the scout, who nodded and with a last mistrustful look at Gawain fell into sleep.

When he awoke the candles had been extinguished and judging by the fact the Gawain was sleeping lightly, it was night. Tristan spied a goblet of water by his bed. Determined not to wake Gawain he slid his hand out, trying to ignore the cuts that had been emblemised upon it. His fingers brushed against the cool surface and he determinedly dragged it towards him. A soft clang echoed around as he set it down again. Gawain stirred and Tristan winched.


	3. Last wish

Gawain bowed is head as Arthur pushed the burning torch into the mound of twigs. It blazed merrily into the sky as those who watched grieved their friend. Soon many departed as the smoke thinned and died but Tristan still stood his head bowed against his chest. Gawain looked up and saw him there. "TRISTAN!" he cried "What in God's name?"

Tristan looked up as Gawain came to his side. Roused by his comrade's shout Arthur broke away and too came over "Tristan why do you not listen to us?" but Arthur could not hold his resolve against his weary friend and his voice faltered.

"Come then Tristan, will you go back now."

"Nay, Arthur he has proved he can walk, let him come with me and I'll take care of him."

Tristan scowled, he did not like being referred to as _he _but remained silent so as not to endanger his chance of freedom. "Gawain, look at him"

Always Arthur was the voice of reason. Tristan sidestepped out of view.

"He'll kill himself, yesterday he could hardly breath,"

"I know, I know" Gawain was starting to see Arthur's point, but was willing to try and talk his way out of having to spend the evening listening to the hunter curse.

"I won't let him out of my sight Arthur, on God's name I swear" Arthur glanced behind him at Tristan before nodding and turning aside as Gawain firmly led Tristan elsewhere. "Tristan please be careful, we've all been worried sick about you"

"When will you go home Gawain?"

"Home?" he questioned "not until you can accompany us Tristan" he guided him onto a bench and passed him some food "

"Watch yourself Tristan".

Tristan sat alone at the back of the room watching the other knight's laugh. A goblet sat at his side it held only water, but he rarely drank anyway. His unruly hair fell in his eyes as he had not had the strength of coordination to braid it some time, it had not been undone it a long time and was frizzing annoyingly into his vision, something Tristan was struggling to retain as it was, he was still fiercely independent and would not suffer anyone else do it for him, as he had made quite clear when Galahad offered. Cursing softly he flipped it out of his eyes and continued to massacre the piece meat he was holding. He was very pleased with himself for obtaining this food, for he had been fed nothing but broth for the previous few days and that did no suit him. It was a treat to be able to sit here in the tavern without anyone watching him, though suspected Gawain was not drinking, so as to save him the job of dragging him back to his room something Tristan had done on many occasions.

Presently Galahad broke away from his sparring mach and sat down next to Tristan "Tristan" he asked "How many Saxons did you kill with that" Tristan paused for a second before answering

"A lot"

" Have you cleaned it since then?" he asked apprehensively, staring at Tristan's knife

"Well there isn't blood on it is there," he answered slicing off another piece and transferring to his mouth.

"Tristan can't you find anything cleaner to eat off"

Tristan brandished his knife at Galahad, who almost laughed at the sight of Tristan threatening him over the top of his food, but though better of it. Despite the fact that there was a perfectly good piece of meat resting on it, Tristan's knife would probably find it's way very quickly to his arm, Tristan glared at the young knight sending him back to his fight. Glancing over said knife, he found that Gawain had been distracted and deicide it was a good time to try and escape.

Gawain saw Tristan rise and limp off, he quickly made to follow him.

Tristan took a few uncertain steps: the ground was becoming increasingly blurred and his head was throbbing. Determined to make it back to his room he kept walking, his vision worsened and suddenly he fell, ending up lying in the dirt. He cursed in his own language but didn't move. He could fell blood trickling down he arm.

Gawain saw him fall "TRISTAN" he ran to him and knelt beside his friend Tristan groaned, true falling in his already bruised and battered chest was not enjoyable, but he was ashamed, ashamed to lift his head from the ground to show his face, he grimaced and muttered a few more curses "Tristan can you hear me?" Gawain's troubled voice reached his ears. He sighed, dreading to look up.

_If one more person asks if I can hear them_… Tristan thought menacingly. It was shame enough to trip like that without all this fuss. Galahad swiftly came to his side and knelt beside Gawain "Tristan…" he began worriedly.

At this moment Arthur came around the corner intending to say his farewells. Upon finding two of his former knights knelt beside a motionless Tristan he ran forwards, full of concern "What happened?" he asked roughly

"He fell, he hadn't been drinking, and he's still injured" Gawain finished softly

"I can see that" Arthur gently flipped Tristan over "Tristan can you move?" Tristan groaned again, not really wanting to. But he also knew that if he did not get up soon Arthur and Gawain would pull or pick him up off the ground and he had no wish to feel anymore helpless then he already was. Still muttering curses in two languages, He pulled himself to his feet and cast Arthur a look as if daring him to laugh, before limping into the darkness. A few patrons at the bar were laughing openly. Gawain turned fire in his eyes and a knife in his hands. He could not bear to think of Tristan's shame to have these peasants laughing at his fall, said peasants fell silent and Gawain turned again and jogged off to find Tristan before he killed himself. Arthur watched him go sadly.

**A big thanks to all of you who left feedback.**


	4. For the love of God REST

**I just realised that six of you have this story on your alert list and thought I better update. Enjoy.**

Gawain ran up a back alley and slowed to a walk beside his friend "Tristan…" he began and was allowed to continue. "All these fifteen years you have been alone and now, Tristan, you need our help if you ever wish to return home."

Tristan was limping along rather quickly for someone who had almost been killed a few days ago and, apparently, ignoring him. Gawain followed Tristan back to his room "Tristan please don't hurt your self further," He nodded and tuned in as Arthur came up the hall "Gawain how is he?"

"Fine, I think, he will heal."

"Good Gawain, I will leave for Rome, I have put it of too long, take care of everybody while I am gone."

"I will."

Arthur smiled and turned to leave, Tristan opened the door quietly, and brushing past Gawain limped after his superior of fifteen years. "Arthur! You don't think you an pick me of the battle field then leave without a farewell," he placed his hand on Arthur's shoulder

"I will miss you Tristan, I hope to find you in good health when I return." Arthur said and escorted him back to Gawain before disappearing into the darkness.

"Well he is gone."

Gawain helped Tristan limp inside he was growing tired again. Gawain suddenly gabbed his arm and pulled it out "Tristan how in God's name did you manage to fall on your knife!" he exclaimed, sure enough, there was a thin knife cut running the length of his arm, Tristan shrugged, supremely unconcerned. "Get some rest Tristan, the sooner you heal the sooner we can go home". Tristan gave Gawain a rare smile. "Home." he repeated, before closing the door again. Gawain smiled back at his friend, well at his friend's door to be precise.

"How on earth does he manage to make near death sound like a scratch?"

He sighed deeply strongly resenting the fact that he must tell his comrades that Arthur had left.

"_Best give him time to exit the city,"_ he thought to himself.

A loud crash pulled him out of his thoughts. There was another crash from behind the door and Gawain guessed that Tristan was in the process of either breaking something or hurting himself. However Gawain was not game to check, having unwittingly given Tristan his knives back

"Tristan?" he called thought door "Are you alright, Tristan?"

"Mmmmm." came the muffled reply.

"Tristan are you alright or not?" Gawain was getting very fed up with his comrade's musing.

"I'm fine Gawain," he yelled back. Gawain turned to leave, then paused contemplating Tristan's previous use of the word _fine_. Silently he swung the door open to find Tristan searching through his room, progressively throwing things around. He tuned to fine Gawain in his door.

"Tristan you should not be moving so much you'll hurt yourself."

"Where is my sword Gawain" he asked in a deadly tone.

"Give it to me now."

Gawain would not have been surprised if Tristan had advanced on him with his knife. Grudgingly, though perhaps wisely, he handed him a sheathed sword , which he had been carrying on his belt.

"Now will you rest?" he said despairingly. Tristan pulled it out of its sheath and satisfied that it was his, nodded then quickly sat on the edge of his bed not wishing to fall over in front of Gawain again

"Tristan I have given you your sword, now you are coming with me,"

"Gawain, please, no." he was almost pleading with the knight

"Come on." he roughly grabbed Tristan's arm and guided him back to the healing wards, amide his admirable struggles and curses.

"Tristan, it's for your own good," Gawain, said exasperatedly leading him back to this allotted room in the healing wards.

A few hours later Arthur wandered in.

"I thought you where leaving my friend."

"Well when I was informed off this..." he gestured to Tristan's war torn form lying peacefully on the bed "…I decided I'd stay. I can't leave without knowing how he will fare." Arthur looked over at Gawain who was looking as though he'd been pulled through several bushes and hadn't slept in a few weeks "Also it appears we are the only ones who'll watch him .You could use a back up."

"That's kind of you Arthur." Gawain replied sarcastically.

"Gawain let me watch him for a while, he's not exactly feeling charitable towards me at the moment, but I'll watch him."

"That is a very good idea, but I'll stay as well, if he wakes up again he will struggle, despite being hardly able to walk."

Arthur nodded and settled next to Gawain.


End file.
